Back In Time
by Sue Pokorny
Summary: Tag to ep 3.11 or 12 if you count orignal order Mystery Spot. I loved this ep, it had everything. Just wanted to give Sam a silver lining.


**I absolutely LOVED Mystery Spot. And I didn't really think it needed a tag, but I end up with this dialogue running thru my head and I guess I just wanted Sam to find a silver lining. I can't help myself. This isn't beta'd – another one of those write then post things, so forgive any mistakes or ramblings that don't make sense.**

**Back In Time**

"I get it now."

"Huh?" Dean glanced across the seat at his brother, brought out of his light daze by the younger man's solemn voice. Sam hadn't really spoken much since they'd left Broward County and hopped onto the Florida turnpike north. Den had made a few attempts to lure his brother into conversation, hoping to alleviate the boredom of the turnpike scenery, but had finally given up and let the younger man brood.

Not that he didn't have a good reason.

Being stuck in a time loop – Dean was still having a hard time getting his mind around that – definitely would give someone a good excuse to be more than a little worked up. Dean just figured his brother needed some time to sort things out and come to terms with the fact that he'd had to witness his older brother's death over and over. Dean was sure it had been somewhat traumatic. He knew it had been when he'd had to –

Nope. So not going there.

"The deal," Sam responded, his voice flat, his attention never wavering from the windshield. "I get why you had to do it."

"You do?" It was more of a statement of surprise than a question.

"Yeah." Sam's voice dropped to a whisper as his eyes dropped to his lap.

Dean shook his head, his eye brows pulling together in confusion. "Okay. Did I miss something? 'Cause the last time I checked, you were still pretty ticked about this whole trading my soul thing."

"I know." Sam's head nodded slowly, but he didn't raise his eyes. "I still wish there had been another way, but I get it. I understand why you did it."

Dean's eyebrows rose as his mouth opened to respond. "You do?"

Sam glanced from under too long bangs. "Yeah, Dean. I do."

Dean's look of surprise was quickly replaced by a frown as he turned back to the road. Pursing his lips, he checked the lane behind him then pulled the Impala across the road and onto the off-ramp. Pulling onto the shoulder next to a sea of palmettos, he killed the engine. Turning in his seat, he placed one arm across the back of the leather bench and stared at this brother. "Okay, Sam. Spill."

"What?"

Dean took a deep breath, searching for patience. "There's something obviously banging around in that egghead brain of yours, so hit me, dude. What's eating you?"

Sam turned toward the window, effectively hiding his face from his brother. "Nothing is eating me, Dean."

The older man couldn't stop the snort of disbelief that escaped. He moved a hand up to rub at his cheek. "So you spend a month of Tuesdays watching me die, and now you're, what, okay with everything?"

Sam shook his head and sighed. "No, I'm not 'okay' with anything, man. I just…"

"Sam."

Years of conditioning made it impossible for the younger man to ignore his brother's unspoken request.

"I just… I understand how lost you felt after I… I know how empty you felt, how cold... how nothing seemed to matter anymore." Sam closed his eyes, obviously struggling to get his thoughts into some kind of semblance of logic. " I know what it's like to not even be able to feel… anything."

He finally turned his head and raised his eyes to meet his brother's, and the depth of sadness stole Dean's breath.

Dean nodded and swallowed hard, his eyes narrowing as his mind raced. "You told me you woke up every time I died."

"I did."

"Then how do you know what it's like after? How do you know what it feels like to have to go on alone." Dean wasn't sure he really wanted to know the answer, just like he hadn't wanted to know when Sam had lay there, still and lifeless on the old, soiled mattress in Cold Oak. Sam was right about how he had felt, though. He had felt dead; as cold as his little brother's body. Nothing seemed to matter, not even his own life.

He never wanted Sam to feel that kind of pain.

Apparently, that was one more thing he hadn't been able to save him from.

Sam turned away without answering.

"Sam?"

"This isn't the first Wednesday."

Dean barely heard the whispered reply. "What? Ah, crap. Are you telling me we're still caught in this friggin' loop thing?" He leaned forward, trying to force his brother to look at him. "Sam?"

"No."

"Then what?"

Sam took a deep breath and settled back into the seat. "The trickster kept his word. He let us out of the loop." He took another breath and exhaled through his nose, pulling his arms across his body as if he felt a sudden chill. "We were leaving the motel but…"

Dean waited for his brother to continue, finally prompting, "But what?"

"You died." Sam's voice had returned to the flat, monotone and the tone as well as the words sent a chill down Dean's spine.

"Come again?"

"You died. For real." Sam continued to stare at the dashboard. "I heard a gun shot. I ran outside and you were lying in the parking lot… I think it was that guy, Kel."

"The coffee dude from the diner?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah. He shot you. Point blank in the chest. You didn't even wake up." He turned a sad smile toward his brother. "And then I didn't wake up. You were just gone. I put you in the Impala before the cops showed up and drove straight to Bobby's. We…" he swallowed hard as his voice cracked. "We burned your body like we did Dad's."

Dean watched as his brother seemed to fold in on himself. "Sam," he whispered, knowing there was nothing he could say that could help.

"I've grieved before," Sam continued as if Dean hadn't spoke. "When Jessica died, when Dad died, but… this was different." His brow creased and his mouth turned down into a frown as he shook his head slowly. "I couldn't feel. It was like I was dead, too. I kept hunting, killing, trying to feel something, anything. But…"

"Sam…"

"I guess I understand how Dad became the was he was. The only thing I could think about was finding the Trickster. I wanted to kill it for what he'd put us through… for what he'd put me through."

"Did you?"

Sam looked up finally. "Kill it? No." His eyes softened and his face lost the hard edge as a sad smile lifted one side of his mouth. "When I found him, it was like I'd finally found a sliver of hope." He shrugged. "I begged him to bring you back."

"That explains the hug." Dean didn't try to hide his surprise. "And that worked?"

"No," Sam gave a short laugh. "Not at first. He told me it was some kind of lesson. That I needed to realize that you were my weakness, that the bad guys already knew it."

It was Dean's turn to smile. "Who doesn't know that?"

"They're wrong." Sam squared his shoulders and looked his brother in the eye. "You're not my weakness."

Dean tilted his head and took a slow breath, not wanting to shatter his brother's allusion. "I'm not?"

"I've thought about it, Dean. They may believe we are each other's biggest weakness, but the opposite is just as true."

Dean wasn't sure how much longer he could watch his little brother emotionally bleed out. "Sam, you don't have to…"

"Yes, Dean. I do." Sam turned back to the window his head bobbing slightly as if coming to some kind of internal decision. After a few moments, he turned in his seat to fully face his brother, his voice strong with conviction. "I need you to understand."

"Understand what?"

"What we have to find a way to break this deal. " He held Dean's eyes, his own now shining with determination. "I can't do this alone."

"Yes, you can –"

"No. I can't. Neither of us can. " Sam placed his arm over his brothers and leaned forward to punctuate his words. "Think about it, man. When you were alone, when I was alone, I didn't care about anything. I was no better than them – what we hunt. You are my humanity, Dean. You're my balance. And I'm pretty sure I'm the same thing for you."

Dean's nod was enough for Sam to continue.

"So if we have any chance in hell of winning this war…" He raised his brows and waited for his brother to finish the thought.

"We need to do it together."

"Yeah," Sam nodded and sat back against the door. "We have to break the deal. If you die, they win."

Dean nodded slowly. "So, we break the deal." He gave his brother a grin. "Piece of cake."

Sam smiled for the first time in what felt like a very long time. "Yeah. No problem."

Dean nodded and pulled out his phone. He scanned through the list of contacts and hit the send button before putting the phone to his ear.

"Who are you calling?"

Dean held up a finger as a voice on the other end of the line answered.

"_Hello?"_

"Hey, Bobby."

"_Dean?"_

"Yeah, we kind of need your help."

"_What else is new. I thought you boys were heading out to Ohio to check out that lead on Bela?"_

"Uh, yeah. Is there anyone else you can send up there? Sammy and I kind of have something more important lined up."

"_Yeah, Joshua is around there. I can see if he can follow it up. But I'd love to know what could be more important than finding that gun?"_

"Sam and I are kind of taking… a leave of absence."

"_A what? Dean –"_

Dean smiled at the older hunter's confusion. "We're out of the hunt, Bobby. At least until we find a way to break my deal." His eyes met his brother's and his chest loosened a bit at the hope he read there. "Think you have some time to help us out with that?"

Bobby's chuckle was loud enough to be heard by both brothers. _"It's about damn time, kid. Get your asses home."_

The End


End file.
